


Crowning Achievement

by theoofoof



Series: Crowning Achievement/Rendezvous [1]
Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>June 2012. The Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. Harry watches events unfold and ponders the changes in his life. Little does he know there's one more change to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crowning Achievement

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FF.net, polished and reposted here. 
> 
> Inspired by watching the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee River Pageant and a comment from my other half about how Harry would be ‘having kittens’ at the prospect of a terrorist attack! Could be considered a companion/prequel to my story 'Rendezvous', but both can also be read as stand-alone pieces.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Spooks or any of the characters or dialogue you may recognise. They all belong to Kudos/BBC.

_3 rd June 2012_

Harry watches as the car arrives at Chelsea Pier and Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II steps out, followed closely by His Royal Highness Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. They are met by The Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall in what can only be described as typical British Bank Holiday weekend weather; cold, wet and damp.

There is an air of pomp and circumstance about it; events like this are what Britain does best; with the help of the Security Services of course. Harry hadn’t been able to contain his horror when the announcement had been made. A flotilla pageant on The Thames? How ridiculous! As lovely as her was sure it would look, it wouldn’t half pose a lot of work for MI-5. Miles of river banking to patrol, 11 bridges and hundreds of surrounding roads closed in order to prevent an unholy catastrophe that could kill off half the people in the line of succession to the throne. Chaos! But that’s politicians for you; they never listen.

He knows the teams involved will be shattered after the weekend’s events; all leave cancelled, ridiculously long shifts, reduced breaks, increased stress and tension. His eyes scan the crowd and he spots several undercover agents milling about, on the lookout for anything suspicious.

As the Queen boards the small yacht that will transport her to the Royal Barge, the Spirit of Chartwell, Harry picks up his glass of whiskey, sits back in his arm chair and takes a small swig. He is grateful that he can watch this all unfold on television, and does not have to endure the stress and strains of the operation. At the same time, however, it feels strange to be watching such a historical event from afar like this; usually he’d be there, in the thick of it, but not anymore.

He’d expected to miss the service when he left, but strangely he didn’t. He supposes that it was down to the need to immerse himself in his new legend, his new life; to make it stick. Being Peter Bond instead of Harry Pearce had taken some getting used to. Although he is thankful to have knocked a few years of his age with the help of his new documents!

The sound of the front door opening heralds the return of the other thing he is thankful for; the woman he loves, alive and living with him. Ruth. Well, Nicola Bond now. He doesn’t think it suits her, she’ll always be Ruth to him, but she likes it.

“Hello!” she calls from the hallway.

“In here,” he shouts back. She enters the living room and he looks up at her; she’s soaked to the skin. “I didn’t realise the weather had gotten quite so bad?”

“Well, after I’d run my errands I took a little walk.”

“In the rain?”

“Yeh.” He’s about to ask why but she cuts him off, gesturing to the television. “I thought you’d said you weren’t going to bother watching this.” He can tell by her tone that she’s worried about how he will cope with it; the first major public event in London since they’d left. They’d discussed whether or not to watch it over the last few days and had decided it was probably a good idea not to as they would only worry about security and their colleagues, and they didn’t live that life anymore.

“I wasn’t, but I caught a glimpse as I switched the TV on and I was intrigued. Wanted to see how it all panned out I guess.”

“And?”

“Well not much has happened so far. It’s not been on long. I did spot a few familiar faces amongst the security staff in the crowds.”

“Any sign of Dimitri or Erin?” she asks wistfully. She misses them, Dimitri especially.

“Not as yet, no. Why don’t you go and get out of those wet clothes and come and watch it with me? You won’t miss much if you hurry.”

Ruth looks back at the coverage of the pageant and, wanting glimpse of London, of home, decides she will.

“Okay, I’ll go change. Could you make me a cup of tea?”

Harry stands and pecks her lightly on the lips on his way to the kitchen. “Of course darling.”

* * *

Three hours later and the pageant is finishing. Ruth and Harry have watched in relative silence, occasionally sharing a story or a memory triggered by a particular landmark or comment from the presenters.

“I’m glad you decided to watch Harry. It was quite something.”

“It was. Nice to be able to enjoy a national event rather than worrying about the latest threats. It lays a kind of ghost to rest too. We know that we can look at London, home, think about colleagues and friends without breaking down.”

As if on cue, Ruth sniffs beside him, struggling to hold back her emotions.

"Oh Ruth!" He still can't call bring himself to call her Nicola when they are alone together; not matter how much she may admonish him for it. "I thought you said you were glad we watched it?"

“I was. I am. It’s just…” she trails off.

“Just what?”

“I miss them.”

Harry pulls her into an embrace. “I know.” It breaks his heart to see Ruth in pain, so much so that he makes a risky proposition. “I could put out some feelers; see if it would be safe to send them a message.”

“No,” she protests. “I’m fine. This will pass.”

“Ruth I-”

“Please Harry, don’t. We’re safe and I don’t want risk anything jeopardising that. Especially not now.”

“Why especially not now?” She doesn’t respond, chewing on her bottom lip instead. “Ruth?” he presses.

Ruth pulls away from him and turns to face him, looking into his eyes. “I’m not really sure how you’re going to take what I have to say,” she begins, and he looks worried.

“Well-” Ruth raises a finger to his lips to quieten him.

“Please Harry don’t. Just let me speak. Please?” Harry nods mutely and, satisfied that he won’t interrupt again, Ruth continues. “My trip to the village this morning wasn’t just about running a few errands. I had an appointment…at the surgery.” He opens his mouth but she reminds him of his promise not to interrupt with a glare. “I…I’m pregnant Harry.”

Harry stares at her, dumbfounded. “Pregnant?” he repeats questioningly. “As in…” He trails off as Ruth nods. “You’re sure?” he checks.

“The doctor was pretty insistent.”

“I…”

“I had a similar reaction,” she tells him. “Hence my walk in the rain; I needed to gather my thoughts.”

“How far gone are you?”

“Not long. About 5 weeks the doctor thinks. It’s still very early.”

“Do you want…? I mean, have you thought about what…?” Harry trails off with a sigh, there’s no tactful way of phrasing the question.

She knows what he’s trying to ask. “Do I want to keep it?”

Harry nods. “I don’t want to assume either way.”

She flashes him a shy smile, still unsure of his reaction. “I know neither of us are in the flourish of youth Harry, but yes I think I do.” She lets her words sink in for a moment, before asking, “What are you thinking?”

“Right now, I’m wondering what I did to deserve to be this happy.”

Ruth’s relief is palpable. “You’re really okay with this?”

“More than okay. I’ll admit I’m surprised; I hadn’t thought I would ever have any more children, but it feels so right to think of you carrying our child.”

Harry gathers her too him and kisses her. It’s a kiss filled with love and promise, but most of all happiness.

“Are we really going do this Harry?” she asks as they pull apart. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“When has anything we’ve done ever being easy?” he asks.

“True,” she agrees and curls up next to him.

The sound of the TV comes back to her; it’s a clip of Prince William talking about his Grandmother’s ability to balance family and duty ; how it’s her ‘crowning achievement’. The phrase takes her back to a time eight months ago, on the banks for the River Thames. She was saying goodbye to Harry before he was taken by the Americans. He had told her that if she managed to form a semblance of a normal life after everything, that it would be _her_ crowning achievement. She has managed that, with him; although it had taken being stabbed and nearly dying to get there.

As Harry’s arms snake round her and one of his hands finds its way to her still flat stomach and stays there, she knows that everything they have been through together; the pain, the loss, the good times and the bad, has all been worth it to bring them to this point.


End file.
